


Cupidity

by goldtracing



Series: the arcane under the obvious [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Study, Colonialism, Gen, Imperialism, Introspection, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldtracing/pseuds/goldtracing
Summary: England had always been stalwart. He has had to.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), England & India (Hetalia)
Series: the arcane under the obvious [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061180
Kudos: 17





	Cupidity

**Author's Note:**

> The small charcter study I wrote about China was really fun to do. So, I've decided to do one of England. Tell me if you'd like to see more of this.

> "In reality, when you have once devoted your life to your enterprises, you are no longer the equal of other men, or, rather, other men are no longer your equals, and whosoever has taken this resolution, feels his strength and resources doubled."
> 
> — Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
> 
> * * *

England had always been stalwart.

In the beginning, that had been essential. In the rough world after Rome’s end, there had been no place for the weak and spineless. That had been a concrete fact that he had hammered into himself very early on. Brutality had been the norm and it had meant he had had to cling to life as if he were clinging to the edge of a cliff with just his fingertips.

Failure had mostly been equivalent to death, to that long drop. Nobody knew what truly lay beyond death’s door and England had never been keen to find out. So, he had held tight to his sword, to his land, had done his uttermost best anchor and protect what had him tangible.

Weathering all those invasions in the beginning had paid off, even if it had felt like he had been torn apart a hundred times and stitched back together, part of him always going missing in the process and new part being added as replacements.

No wonder his siblings had always regarded him as a changeling. He only shared a fraction of ancestry with them, because he had constantly been reformed as waves of strange and foreign people had swept over his lands and had settled. He had weathered all those storms, the humiliation of being subjugated and oppressed over and over again.

England had always been stalwart. 

It was surely something that had been about the trauma that those wars had inflicted that had kickstarted this trait, this one characteristic that always has defined him. No matter how detrimental the side effects were.

After having to suffer under the yoke of various conquerors, England had vowed to himself to always be the one that controlled, not the one that was controlled. Power is priceless in that way. It had been the spark that had ignited his ambition – to leave his mark on the world, to be the heir to Rome’s splendour.

He had always wanted so much, to be so much more than he already was. There had been stiff competition in the civilized world, with everybody vying for the top spot. Determination had taken place where hopelessness would have been seated.

Elisabeth had finally sealed his fate, had promised that the world one day be his for the taking, that he deserved it, because who else did? In this rotten, wayward world, plagued by sin and decay, there were precious few that were capable of wielding power. Arthur loved to say he was amongst that number.

_First, Maya gold and Spanish silver. Precious stones from the Americas that glinted in the firelight of sinking Spanish ships as their flames were doused by sea water. They’d lie in their watery graves for all eternity, for God willed it. For God willed Britain to be rich, allowed him to steal and plunder and enrich himself at the expense of others._

And even then, it hadn’t been enough. 

_Second, silk that felt like water on his scared and calloused skin and adorned him in a multitude of colours. Tea and cinnamon and curry that taken from the south and had pieced his food and served as a posh drink that eventually every one of his people had. Other spices such as pepper and cardamom and saffron than any of those fools that resided on the continent._

Aside from stoutness, stalwart has another meaning. It means loyalty and England has always had a very unorthodox way of showing it. His loyalty had only ever been to himself and his ideals. To the ambition that burned as star fire in his veins and consumed and devoured. To himself, because he was always right, because the powers that be looked down upon him favourably. Because he was civilized and blessed and destined to grandeur

It bred a loathing in him for anything that wasn’t English, that he didn’t control or have and wasn’t marked with his name. For everything that danced beyond his grasp, that defied him. It led to weariness for everyone that wasn’t of his blood or didn’t swear devotion to him. Because what he didn’t have power over was against him. 

_His throne on top of the world was built upon ruins and the bones of dead empires and the bodies of those he ruled. To get there, to maintain his power, he spilled enough blood to fill rivers. To have more, he gladly ruined others. Because that was where he was fated to be. So, he enthusiastically plunged his fingers deeper in festering wounds and bleed other nations dry so that he could glutton himself on the spoils._

He had conquered his siblings because proximity creates rivalry. Because that, that has slight deviation from the gold standard is the most horrendous. They may have rebelled, and he may have quashed them with the brutality. But that was only because it all fell in the natural order. Not that he had ever expected anything else, those nations that weren’t him could never be alike him and therefore earned a place under his heel.

Britain had carved out pieces of the New World for himself, for power and resources, – sugar and cotton – because expansion was an essential part of a nations existence. When Alfred had left it had been a smarting blow to his pride.

As was to be expected, he had occupied part of Africa and Asia, had imposed his laws and customs and established peoples and acted in violence when his will was neglected and opposed. He had looted and stolen and pushed their histories in obscurity so that they had to accommodate him and his teachings.

He had installed himself in new lands and had eradicated the old and purged it. All of that so that he could sow new seeds to grow something strong and virile. Sturdy things that would solidify his rule and lush fruit that he reaped for his own benefit.

Arthur knew how others had seen him – as a pooka, as a kitsune, as a spider that manipulated events to his liking. They knew he wanted to tailor the world according to his wished, yet what they grasped far to late was the skulduggery he utilized to achieve his ends. He had always been unconventional, yet nobody could concretely say he was without finesse. France would always dispute that, yet it took keenness to slip through the cracks and exploit weaknesses when the opportunities arose.

England had always been stalwart.

And he had need that when his century had come to a close. He had needed it when the bombs had dropped. When he had been forced to abdicate, when he had no longer been able to look at the globe with anticipation but rather cynicism as his empire had crumbled.

It had taken strength to see that bastard boy fill the niche he had left, to now pull all the strings he had once held. To have the world as an oyster where he wallowed in nostalgia for his old glory. Yet he knew that not all was lost, even as he felt himself deteriorated further.

He would survive, as he always had.


End file.
